That One Human AU
by prodigaldaughter13
Summary: Dean and Cas first met in Ms. Harvelle's first grade class. These are their stories. Chronological, and can be read as stand-alones, but when read together paint a larger picture. This is a series over on AO3 I put together, but here it's just gonna be chapter by chapter.
1. Does He Talk?

"Everyone, say hello to your new classmate, Castiel Novak," Ms. Harvelle said, laying a hand on the small boy's shoulder. He was considerably smaller than the others in the class, and she worried that it might cause trouble. The only open spot in the room was next to class troublemaker Dean Winchester.

Ms. Harvelle knew Dean was capable of great kindness; she'd seen the way he took care of his younger brother, Sam, on the playground. Everyone in the school knew not to touch the younger Winchester. Dean might only be seven, but he could take out older children easily, and had been to visit the principal for it more than once.

So it was with trepidation that Ms. Harvelle showed Castiel to his seat. "Castiel, this Dean Winchester. He'll be your deskmate, okay?"

Castiel nodded solemnly. He hadn't spoken a word yet, not when his father, Chuck, had dropped him off, and not now, when Dean glared at the boy encroaching on his personal space.

Ms. Harvelle stepped to the front of the class, and resumed her arithmetic lesson.

* * *

Dean turned to face the new kid with a smirk. "Hiya, Castiel. That's a weird name you got." Castiel only nodded. "Do you talk?" Dean demanded. Cas nodded again. "Well, aren't you gonna talk to me?" This time Castiel shook his head. Dean scowled. "Why not?"

Castiel only blinked at him before turning to face the front of the room.

* * *

"C'mon, Cas, we're gonna play," Dean said, grabbing the smaller boy by the elbow and dragging him over to the swings where Sammy was waiting with a book in hand.

"Sammy, Cas. Sammy's my brother," Dean said proudly. Cas nodded, but didn't speak.

"Does he talk?" Sammy asked. Dean shrugged, helping Cas onto one of the swings before clambering on himself.

"Doesn't have to if he doesn't wanna," Dean said as he showed Cas how to swing his legs to get really high. Sammy nodded, and went back to reading.

* * *

Three days later, Cas still hadn't said a word. Naomi, one of the mean girls from class, cornered Cas by the jungle gym. A couple other kids formed a circle around them, blocking the teachers' views.

"Why won't you talk? Talk!" Naomi demanded, first poking Cas in the stomach, and then shoving him when the poking didn't work. Cas just scuttled back and crouched with his back to the jungle gym, terrified. The kids got closer, Naomi shouting abuse at him while he shook. Just as she was pulling back to hit Cas, someone stepped between them.

"Leave him alone!" Dean shouted, pushing Naomi away. She stumbled back, surprised, while Dean picked Cas up from the woodchips and dusted him off.

"He's my friend, you leave him alone," Dean growled, and he led Cas away by the hand.

"You okay?" Dean asked once they were on their way back to the swings. Cas nodded, and held Dean's hand tighter to keep him from pulling away.

"Thank you, Dean," Cas said simply.

Dean grinned. "I knew you could talk!" he exclaimed, ruffling Cas's hair affectionately. "Why didn't you just say something to Naomi?"

Cas shrugged. "I don't like her."

"She sucks," Dean agreed with a laugh. "Hey, Sammy! Guess who talked?"

Sammy looked up from his book with a grin. "Hey, Cas."

"Hello, Sammy."

Dean's smile had never been so big.


	2. No Brakes

"This is a bad idea, Dean," Cas said. His fingers flexed uncomfortably, testing the handlebars anxiously. Dean laughed, pedaling in circles around the worried boy. He screeched his bike to a stop, making Cas wince at the sound as he left a black mark across the tar.

"No, Cas, a bad idea is when you wanted to try and prank Gabe. This, this is normal," Dean laughed. They were perched at the top of the tallest hill in the neighborhood. Sammy had insisted on going to library that day, leaving Dean and Cas free to get into trouble without worrying about Sammy getting hurt. Dean had decided that this summer he was gonna teach Cas how to ride a bike.

"You're nine years old, Cas, it's time to learn," Dean continued. "Just balance, and when you crash, roll with it."

"Wait, _when_ I crash?" Cas repeated, panicked, but Dean ignored him, reaching over and giving the bike a push downhill. Cas squeaked in surprise and fear, but a moment later anger overtook his features. "I hate you, Dean!" he shouted as the bike hurtled towards the cul-de-sac beneath them.

Dean laughed again, taking off down the hill after his friend. "No you don't!" Dean called back, pedaling faster to pull ahead of Cas. When he looked over his shoulder, Cas was laughing and clumsily pedaling the bike to build up speed.

"Hey, Dean?" Cas called, as the cul-de-sac got closer. "How do I brake?"

"Crap," Dean muttered, looking over just in time to see his best friend go head first over a bush. Dean leapt off his bike without braking, hit the ground running, and was by Cas in a second. "Cas? Castiel, are you okay?" he demanded, hovering anxiously over his friend.

Cas stood up, shoulders shaking with laughter. "I'm fine, Dean," Cas said, giving his friend a playful shrug.

"I knew that," Dean replied defensively. "I just was wondering if you wanted to race to my house for ice cream."


	3. The Worst Day Of His Life

The day his mom dies is the worst day of Dean's life.

They keep telling him his mom is with angels now, like he isn't old enough to understand what _dead_ means. He's eleven, he's not stupid. He knows that the fire that took part of his home took his mom. He knows she's gone and she isn't ever coming back.

He knows nothing is ever going to be the same ever again.

Cas sits with him at the funeral. When Dean's eyes start to well up, Cas puts a comforting hand on his shoulder and squeezes. Dean leans into the contact, drinking up the small bit of relief that comes from having a friend during mourning.

But Cas can't help everything. He can't help that Dean's dad is never sober any more, the more often than not Dean has to be the one to take care of Sammy. That more than once John's taken a swing at Dean after he's had a half dozen too many.

That's the year Uncle Bobby moves in, to keep an eye on John, and to help with the boys. That's also the year John leaves, travelling with a new company to match his new job.

But Bobby's better around the house. Not like Dean's mom was, but better than his dad. He lets Cas come over whenever Dean needs him, and doesn't get mad when they play old Beatles records at three in the morning. Sammy seems happier, having more fun in school and clubs than he could before.

John sends postcards from the places he visits, and even mentions in some that he's been 'sobering up for his sons'. Dean's proud of him, proud to have a dad that's doing better, but part of him keeps waiting for something bad to happen.

When Dean's dad dies, Dean is certain it's his fault. One parent dying could be an accident, something sad. Two parents dying meant there was something bad going on. He knows it.

After John's funeral, Cas looks for him all over the house, but can't find him. Finally, after scouring the backyard, Cas finds Dean holed up in their tree house, eyes squeezed shut and curled into a ball. He climbs up the ladder and settles in quietly next to Dean, not speaking yet. Words still don't come easily to him, and he needs to think them out before he uses them.

"You are not to blame," Cas says firmly. Dean only shakes his head, keeping his eyes firmly closed as he curls his shoulders in. Cas touches his shoulder lightly, starting back a bit when Dean flinches away.

Instead of trying again, he settles back and lets Dean sit in silence for a time. Then he begins to hum quietly.

"No!" Dean shouts suddenly. Cas halts for a second, but starts up again quickly. "Not that song!" Dean yells again, his voice panicked and so close to tears.

"Why not, Dean? Two years ago it was all you could hum!" Cas shouts back, knowing Dean would rather fight than cry, and that if he didn't do one_right now_ he'd do the other.

"Because it's my fault they're dead!" Dean's voice cracks and he sinks back against the wall of the tree house. Cas freezes, not sure how to respond to this.

"You can't really believe that." When Dean remains silent, Cas is astonished. How could his best friend be carrying this weight around and Cas not know about it? "Dean, your mother- that was an accident. You weren't even home. And your dad, how could you have known? His heart, it just couldn't keep up with him. That's not your fault."

"I wasn't there for them! Either of them. Mom, she shouldn't have been home, she only stayed home in the mornings to get us to school. I could've done that for her, easy. I should've kept Dad here, where I could watch what he was eating and make sure he was taking his meds. Cas, I wasn't there for them and now they're dead!" Dean says, fully crying now but refusing to admit it. Cas can see the hot tears pouring down his face, but doesn't mention it. He lets Dean retain his pride.

"You don't need to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, my friend," Cas says finally, putting a comforting arm around Dean. Any other day, Dean would shrug him off with a laugh and a shove, reminding him of "Personal space, man, remember that?". Today, he simply relaxes, and lets Cas hold him down to earth.


	4. Aren't You Ever Scared?

"Aren't you ever scared?" Dean asked as he and Cas dove into some bushes. The homeowner ran right past them and they both laughed breathlessly from the excitement of getting away with a prank.

"I swear, he came out of the house with that gun and you didn't even blink!" Dean praised. He leaned over and gave the blushing Cas a playful shove. Cas chuckled. "Although your toilet paper aim could use some work," Dean teased quietly.

"You're just jealous because I came up with using shaving cream on the windows," Cas whispered back. Even though the immediate threat had passed, they were still being quiet, trying not to get caught or spotted by anyone in the area.

"Nope, because you wouldn't have had the idea if it weren't for _my_ ice cream sundae plan. Without the whipped cream, you never would've thought of shaving cream," Dean replied easily.

The pair had been preparing their two a.m. ice cream sundaes –a sleepover tradition they'd upheld since elementary school- when Dean had suggested they go T.P. Naomi's house, since she'd been harassing both of them for the better part of their education.

What they hadn't planned on was Naomi's psycho dad coming out waving what looked to be a shotgun at them after they coated the bottom floor windows in shaving cream and hung toilet paper over the entire building. Rather than stick around to ask questions –the biggest of which being "Is that gun loaded?"- Dean and Cas just took off running.

Now they hunched in the bushes, breath coming fast and laughter still spilling out from between them. Finally Dean decided it was safe to stick his head out of the shrubbery.

"Hey, Cas, I think we're clear," Dean said, climbing out of the bushes and helping his friend out as well. A moment later, lights flared up behind them. Dean and Cas whirled, only to see Naomi's dad in a car, revving the engine and glaring at them.

"I think we should run," Cas said simply. They stayed frozen a second longer, and then exploded into motion, sprinting across backyards and over fences, where the car couldn't travel.

"Dean, I'm stuck!" Cas hissed as they jumped a chain link fence. Dean turned and yanked his friend down, ignoring the loud rip that sounded through the night. They started running again, and kept going until they reached Dean's house, where the promptly fell over onto the front lawn.

At first they just laid there, laughing up at the night sky. It felt so good to be alive, to have run that fast and that far with someone by your side. They laughed until their sides hurt and there wasn't any actual laughter coming from their mouths, only sharp gasping sounds.

"Cas?" Dean asked as their laughter died down.

"Yeah?"

"I think we left your jeans on that fence."


	5. Just a Kiss

They were sixteen. Young, stupid, and headstrong as all hell. And definitely not in love.

Dean had driven them out of town at Cas's insistence. The smaller boy had something he wanted to show Dean, something that could only be seen away from town.

So there they were, at nearly eleven o'clock at night, sprawled out on the grass staring up at the sky. Cas propped himself up on his elbow so he could direct Dean's gaze.

"There," Cas said, pointing. Dean's eyes followed his friend's finger, grinning when he saw what Cas had seen.

"Meteor shower," Dean murmured approvingly.

"I like 'falling stars' better," Cas commented, settling onto his side to more comfortably view the show.

Without really thinking, Dean shifted closer, until his chest was barely brushing Cas's back with each intake of breath.

"Remember that time, the summer after fourth grade, when Gabe told us all those ghost stories?" Dean whispered, nearly in Cas's ear.

Cas laughed, his body bumping Dean's every other laugh. "We didn't sleep for a week! Had to have someone else in the room, and Sam snored."

"Yeah, and then your mom gave in and just let you stay over til we weren't freaked," Dean chuckled, watching how his breath stirred Cas's hair softly.

"I must've been there a month before your mom realized we just liked hanging out," Cas replied.

"Yeah. Man, she was pissed at Gabe, though. I thought she was gonna shout the neighborhood down." Dean's voice went soft without his permission, sounding almost sad. Cas rolled, turning his back on the falling stars so he could look Dean in the eye.

"She'd be proud of you, Dean," Cas said. Dean shrugged, but Cas didn't let it go. "Seriously. The way you're taking care of Sam, and kept an eye on your dad. It's more than she could've wanted."

Dean nodded, his throat feeling suddenly dry. Cas just stared at him, the lines and planes of his face brought into sharp relief by the moonlight. Dean stared back, stretching time between them until his phone went off, letting him know it was ten minutes to Cas's curfew.

He stood up quickly, offering a hand to help Cas up. They got into the car silently, Dean trying to quell something that seemed to be trying to escape his chest.

They pulled up to Dean 's house, parked, and started the brief walk to Cas's house. It was an old tradition, something they'd done as kids to get more playtime together. Now they strolled silently, shoulders occasionally brushing.

Dean stopped at the Novak's door, digging the toe of his boot into the ground for a moment. Something was fighting in him, but he didn't know what, or which side he wanted to win.

"Goodnight, Dean," Cas said shyly, almost as if he was getting dropped off from a date.

At that thought, everything clicked into place, and Dean realized abruptly that right in front of him was Castiel, his oldest and best friend. And the boy he was in love with.

Well that settled the internal battle. Before he had a chance to chicken out, Dean leaned in and pressed a surprisingly chaste kiss to Cas's cheek.

He pulled back, intending to say goodnight and hurry away, but Cas dragged him back and guided their mouths together.

And just like that, Dean knew he was done for. With the girls he'd kissed, there'd been something, but here with Cas? There was everything.

Their lips moved together slowly, languidly, as they completely lost track of time. It was only when the porch light blazed on that they parted, and even then they only moved a breath away.

Gabriel stood in the doorway, screen door separating them. Dean took a step in between Cas and his brother, unconsciously shielding Cas from any potential trouble. Gabe just grinned. "It's about damn time."


	6. Prom Night

Dean scowled, tugging at his bowtie with an irritated jerk. Sam shot him a bitch face, telling him to stop, which he did, but not happily.

"Just relax, Dean. Wearing a tux isn't going to kill you," Sam said, straightening his flower-thing, the male counterpart to the corsage that he'd picked up at the supermarket. Dean only glared at his baby brother.

"Easy for you to say, you're not the one taking a guy to prom," Dean shot back, his nerves showing. While he and Cas hadn't tried to hide their relationship, they weren't exactly flaunting it either. Kansas might not be the Deep South, but even in the Midwest you could run into bigots.

So Dean had been careful. He and Cas weren't exactly on people's radar at school, so they'd just kept their heads down and held hands underneath the table. And when posters had gone up for prom, Cas had pretended he didn't care, but Dean had seen how Cas would look at the posters with this wistful, half-sad look on his face, and how was Dean supposed to resist that? Dean would be damned if he let a bunch of potential assholes get in the way of making Cas smile.

Sam's face softened a bit, and he clapped a hand on Dean's shoulder. "It'll be fine, Dean." Dean shrugged the hand off after a moment, giving his baby brother a grateful smile.

"It won't be fine if I don't pick Cas up soon," Dean smirked. Sam laughed, giving a nod. He and Jess were taking a limo, but when a spot for Dean and Cas had been offered, Dean had laughed. As if anything but the Impala would get to take them to prom.

Bobby, thankfully, wasn't insisting on pictures of them all, so Dean was free to just get into the Impala and go pick up Cas. Chuck pretended to give him a hard glare, but then just laughed and told them to have fun and not worry about curfew. Gabe had opened his mouth to say something –why the dick couldn't stay at college with his other brothers and leave Cas alone, Dean would never know– but Cas had hustled them out and into the car.

As Dean started the car, Cas slumped back into his seat in relief. "One of these days, I'm actually going to kill Gabe," Cas said. Dean grinned, glancing over at his boyfriend, taking in his appearance fully for the first time that evening.

He took Cas's hand in his, and lifted it gently to his lips. "Sure you will," Dean agreed, both of them knowing Cas was too kind to actually kill Gabe. Beat him up, maybe, but not murder him.

Cas gave a halfhearted smile. "Are you- are you certain you want to do this? It isn't necessary, and if you'd rather, we could just go to dinner. I don't want to cause trouble for us, and people might–"

"People might talk, yeah. But screw them. Cas, you're all dressed up, and I want to show you off to everyone. We're gonna be fine," Dean said, keeping hold of Cas's hand while he drove. They pulled up at the hotel the school had booked for the event and parked quickly.

By the time Dean had retrieved the flower pins from the backseat, Cas was standing outside the Impala with a slightly nervous smile. Dean pulled the little plastic box from behind his back, he'd had to custom-order a set that had two pins instead of one pin and one corsage.

"You got boutonnieres?" Cas asked gleefully, his smile bursting onto his face full blast. So _that's_ what those damn things were called. Dean nodded, pulling out one and resting the box on the Impala's trunk while he clumsily pinned it to Cas's lapel. Cas grinned, taking the other and pinning it expertly onto Dean's tux.

"Ready?" Dean asked, smoothing his suit anxiously. Cas nodded, and caught his hand. Already his boyfriend was vibrating in excitement, and they weren't even in the building yet.

The couple walked into the building and headed to the ballroom –seriously, that was what it said on the sign–, where they could hear the music pounding. The moment they opened the doors, Cas turned to Dean and kissed him square on the mouth before pulling back with a grin. When Dean raised an eyebrow, Cas shrugged.

"If we're going to do this, we might as well do it all the way," Cas said. Dean looked around, and the few who had turned when the door opened just smiled or shrugged, not caring what the two did. This bolstered Dean's courage, and he tugged Cas towards the dance floor.

"Dean, you _know_ I can't dance," Cas insisted, putting up a token effort of resistance. Dean smirked, tugging Cas closer to him as the song moved from some fast-paced dubstep to a slower ballad.

"We might as well do it all the way," Dean murmured, wrapping his arm around Cas's waist and leading him in a turn.

Cas laughed, moving closer to Dean and resting his head on the taller boy's shoulder. They stepped into a sort of trance, as the room of teenagers melted away until they were all that was left, just the two of them, swaying gently together.

The song ended, but they held still for a moment, arms still wrapped around each other in the moment of silence that occurred before the beginning of the next song. Dean ducked down, pressing a gentle kiss to Cas's upturned lips. The next song started up, but it was some bubblegum pop crap, not the slow song Dean had been hoping for, so they stepped to the side, grabbing some punch on their way.

A couple of Cas's friends spotted them, and came over to chat for a few minutes. Dean mostly kept quiet, grinning now and then and tossing in a few jokes, but was content to watch Cas smile and laugh in the half-light of the prom.

During a lull in the conversation, Dean heard an unfortunately familiar voice approaching.

"Can you _believe_ it? The school, just letting a couple faggots come to prom. There are _people_ here, good people!" Naomi was saying, deliberately speaking louder than necessary as she walked by so that Cas and Dean would hear. Cas's smile dropped from his face, and Dean could feel anger boiling in his stomach.

"I'll be right back," Dean murmured, patting Cas's hand gently, ignoring his boyfriend's protest.

"Be careful, Dean," Balthazar warned, taking a swig of his –probably spiked– punch. "She's got Dick on her arm tonight. You know what that asshole's like."

Dean nodded his thanks to Balthazar, even if the guy was constantly hitting on Cas, he was alright, and then crossed quickly to where Naomi was standing with her date standing behind her. Dick wasn't very big, but he made up for it with sheer nastiness. And a pretty wicked right hook.

But Dean wasn't putting up with their issues screwing up Cas's evening, and he could just by looking at them they weren't going to stop at one comment. If he didn't put a stop to it now, they'd ruin Cas's whole night.

"Naomi, Dick," Dean said by greeting. Naomi gave him a condescending smile, and Dick simply grinned with malice.

"Winchester," Naomi said, pouring extra syrupy disdain into her voice.

"I'm not gonna beat around the bush, you leave me and my boyfriend alone or you'll regret it," Dean said, his voice pitched low. Naomi raised her eyebrows and looked like she was going to argue until she looked up from her disgusted scan of Dean's body to see the fury in his eyes.

She froze, clearly frightened, and gave a nod. Dick took a step forward, but Naomi got her composure back, and held him back with a hand. Dean gave them both a hard look before he turned on his heel and went back to where Cas was standing.

He slid an arm around Cas's waist, kissing him lightly on the temple. Cas turned from his conversation with Balthazar, focusing his attention completely on Dean. "Did it go all right?" Cas asked quietly, staring up at him somberly.

"It went fine, angel, don't worry about it," Dean soothed.

"You don't always have to fight my battles, Dean," Cas reprimanded softly, placing his hand on Dean's cheek. Dean leaned into the touch, closing his eyes and sighing.

"No, but when it's _our_ battles, I'm not going to shy away," Dean replied. Cas looked like he was going to argue back, but Dean swooped down and kissed him before Cas could make another sound. "Now, c'mon, let's have some fun."

He tugged Cas towards the center of the room, into the crush of bodies, and pulled until they were flush against each other. At first Cas was clumsy, a little awkward in his own body, but the more he and Dean danced, the more fluid his motions became, until soon they were both giving themselves over to the music and lights, letting themselves be moved by the sound instead of their own thoughts.

The rest of the evening passed in a rush of lame photographs, courtesy of Jess, watery punch, and really bad music. By the time the DJ announced the last song of the night, Dean and Cas had both abandoned their coats, and Dean his bowtie, while Cas kept his tie on.

The song started, slow and sweet, as Dean was moving Cas to the floor. They didn't even keep up a pretense of dancing; opting instead to wrap their arms tight around each other and sway, foreheads pressed together, breath mingling.

"Dean…" Cas said on an exhale. Dean opened his eyes, staring straight into those blue eyes he'd known for the better part of his life. Now those eyes were sparkling with something, something new and exciting.

"Yeah?" Dean asked, equally quiet. The song poured around them, insulating them from everything else.

"I don't have to be home until tomorrow," Cas said leadingly.

"And…?" Dean replied, a little bit of excitement beginning to stir in his stomach.

"And we're in a hotel." Cas's voice was still gentle, but it was clear he wanted Dean to catch on. But Dean didn't know where he was going.

"Yeah, yeah we are," Dean said. He could feel hope coiling around the excitement in his stomach, but he didn't know whether or not to trust it. Cas's eyes danced, a promise shining in there somewhere, but what he was promising Dean couldn't know.

"We should get a room," Cas said bluntly. The song ended right then, snapping them both out of their trance. Dean straightened and Cas let his hands fall from where they'd been clasped behind Dean's neck. But they didn't step apart.

Dean stared down at Cas, certain he'd misheard. "Are- are you sure?" he stammered. Cas nodded, face solemn and eyes bright. He was open, vulnerable, completely at Dean's mercy. Dean immediately brought him into his arms, pulling Cas tight to his chest, and then pushing him away just far enough that he could catch his boyfriend's lips in a fierce kiss.

Cas seemed nervous for a moment, but quickly melted, letting Dean's mouth ply his open, letting Dean seek, feel, taste, and Dean once again marveled that someone as good as Cas was his. Dean broke this kiss a moment later, breathing heavily.

"Okay. Let's get a room," he panted, loving how Cas's eyes lit up and the smile on his face grew infinitely wider. This time, Cas leaned up and kissed him, a quick, butterfly brushing of lips before he darted away.

"I love you, Dean Winchester."


	7. A Night to Remember

"Dean, are you insane? You could've died this time!" Cas shouted as Dean shucked his jacket and threw it over the back of the couch. He closed the door as Dean entered the living room. Cas refused to let it go, stepping around Dean and getting right into his space.

"I didn't though, did I? So what's the problem?" Dean growled, trying to walk away. Cas caught him by the shoulder, spun him back to face him, and started in again.

"You get off on it, don't you? Nearly dying, putting me and Sammy through _hell_. Me, I get, but I would think you'd at least think of Sammy. For God's sake, he can't lose you and you know it!" Cas retaliated, voice getting more and more uneven.

"Don't you dare bring my brother into this, Castiel! This is about you, and your need for control. Well news flash, _you can't control me._ If I want to ride my bike, dammit, I'm gonna ride my bike!" Dean yelled back, Cas finally getting under his skin.

"God, Dean, this is not about control! I don't want to control you, I just want you safe! Is that so much to ask, that you at least _pretend_ to give a damn about your own life?" Castiel's face was wrecked, his eyes filling with tears that he blinked rapidly away. Dean was too pissed off to care. He ached all over and he was furious, his blood boiling.

"Like hell it's not about control! You've been freaking out ever since I bought that bike, and now you can't stand the idea that I might be out of your sight for more than an hour," Dean spat, flopping on the couch in a furious heap.

"What I can't stand is the idea of someone scraping you off the pavement and then calling me saying it was too late!" Cas was crumpling in on himself, but now he was going and there was no stopping the words as they crashed out on a tidal wave. "I'm not sticking around and watching as you drink and drive yourself to death. I'm done here."

"Fine! Go then, and find someone else to smother!" Dean stood up and screamed it at Cas, and then at the front door as it swung shut. And if later that night, he drank so much and yelled so loud that Sammy had to pick him up from the police station the next morning, Cas certainly was never going to find out.

Because by the time a thoroughly annoyed moose dropped off Dean at home, Cas's half of the bedroom was cleared out.

* * *

"Dean, I don't understand why you won't just talk to him," Sammy commented, stepping to the kitchen to grab a beer.

"Ha, no, you're underage, bitch," Dean said, snatching the beer from Sammy's Gigantor hands and kicking the fridge shut.

"So are you, jerk," Sammy responded, taking the bottle back. "But seriously, Dean. Cas is a mess. At least _talk_ to the guy." Dean pointedly avoided looking at his brother, knowing that Sammy was turning up the puppy dog eyes, which Dean hadn't managed to resist yet, and there was no way in hell Dean was gonna talk to his ex-boyfriend, not after that fight.

Dean ran a hand through his hair, heaving a sigh. "I- I just can't, okay, Sammy? Leave it," Dean said flatly. There were some things a guy just didn't want to discuss with his baby brother, and the recent breakup with the love of his life is one of them.

Because Cas was. The love of Dean's life, that is. There'd never been anyone else. Sure, there'd been girls, but from the moment Cas had first kissed him, he'd been a goner. For four years it'd been Dean-and-Cas, never apart but always together. Gabe had teased them mercilessly at first, and of course Zachariah and Michael had thrown a hissy over their baby brother's sexuality, but overall, things had gone okay with their families. Sammy had nearly wet himself laughing, and Bobby had just called them idjits. Chuck hadn't given a damn, he was just happy they were happy.

Now it was just Dean and his own idiocy dicking things up between them. And his own pride holding him back.

"I don't see why not," Sammy said, popping the cap off a beer he'd snuck while Dean was lost in thought and taking a swig.

"I thought I said no to those," Dean commented. Sammy only smirked at him before going all Zen Master again.

"Dean. Cas loves you, you know that. And you love him. So why the hell are you playing this game?" Sammy asked.

"It's not a game, Sammy. It's… It's just that we… I dunno. It's complicated, okay, Sam?" Dean snapped. He just wanted to close the subject, drink a bit, and then go for a drive.

"I don't get it. He loves you, you love him, what's complicated? I figure, if you love somebody, it doesn't matter what you do or how much you fuck up, you're there for each other." Sammy shrugged, standing up, downing the last of his beer, and leaving the apartment.

Dean groaned. Leave it to Sasquatch to make him see sense. He flipped open his phone to text Cas.

* * *

_Cas. We need to talk. Meet me at the Roadhouse at seven. –Dean_

Signing it was a little stupid; Cas had his number, and who else called him Cas? Well, Sammy, but Sammy didn't text if he could help it. Still, part of Dean wanted to remind Cas of who he was. Not the jackass that'd screamed at him earlier, but the guy Cas had somehow, miraculously, fallen in love with.

His phone buzzed and his heart leapt as he opened the reply.

_Give me one good reason why I should._

His heart dropped. Of course Cas wouldn't want to see him, after what he'd said. But dammit, Dean wasn't giving up this easily! He needed to see Cas, to talk to him, to apologize. But not over text. If he was going to beg forgiveness, he was going to be man enough to do it to Cas's face.

_I sold the motorcycle._

He had. The moment his massive hangover was manageable, Dean had gone down to the dealership with Sammy in tow and sold it off cheap. It was nice, but having it made Cas worry, so it wasn't worth it.

_The bike wasn't the problem._

Okay, he'd known that. It was the drinking, always the alcohol, that really bugged Cas. But they could work on that, he could get better, he knew he could. Cas just needed to listen to him, just enough so that Dean could explain.

_I know. Just meet me. Please._

Dean stared at his phone, waiting anxiously for the next message.

_Fine._

Thank God. Dean sighed in relief, settling back into the couch. He had a few hours before they'd be meeting, just enough time to clean himself up and figure out how exactly he was going to make things right between them.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. "Come on in," Dean shouted. There were only a handful of people who could be visiting him, almost everyone he knew worked during the day.

"Dean-o," Gabriel said with false cheeriness. Dean groaned. Of course it was Gabe. Because there was no other possible way his day could get worse. A visit from his boyfriend's psychotic older brother was exactly what he needed.

"Hello, Gabe. What do you want?" Dean growled, not bothering to play nice, as Cas never did anymore. It just wasn't worth it, Gabe would smirk and tease no matter how kind or unkind you were to him.

Gabe produced a lollipop from his pocket, unwrapping it and sucking for a moment before speaking.

"You fucked up," Gabriel pointed out, gesturing accusingly with the sucker. Dean only nodded. "I believe I told you once that if you hurt my baby brother, I'd break you."

Dean frowned. He could probably hold Gabe off in a fight, but he wouldn't escape unscathed, and something told him turning up to his meeting with Cas sporting a black eye courtesy of the man's brother wouldn't set a good tone for the evening.

"But you seem pretty broken already," Gabriel stated, giving Dean a cursory glance, "So I'll spare you. Just… fix it." He headed back to the door, Dean hadn't even gotten up off the couch yet but already he was anxious to see the man go. Gabe paused at the door, one hand on the doorframe. "He's better with you, Dean. And you're better with him. Don't let him walk away from you."

* * *

Cas was not anxious. He wasn't nervous. He was only drumming his fingers on the table for something to do, _not _because he was worried. He knew he was in the right here, and knew there was no other choice. He wasn't strong enough to ignore the path Dean was going down. Dean's choices were going to kill him, and Cas couldn't support that.

So, no, he wasn't at all on edge. He'd just shown up at the Roadhouse a half hour early because he'd gotten hungry. And he hadn't ordered, not because it felt wrong to order food for just himself and not Dean, but because he'd lost his appetite. And if Jo and Ms. Harvelle –even though she'd retired years ago to run the restaurant, Cas still hadn't broken the habit of addressing her as his teacher– shot him confused glances now and then, it was probably because he wasn't wearing his standard trench coat and tie. Not because he was a lacking a freckled man by his side.

And since he wasn't nervous, his heart did _not_ skip a beat when Dean came it at a quarter to seven. If it did start beating faster, which it didn't, it was only because it was warm in the restaurant. Suddenly warm, in fact. Sweltering, even.

Dean spotted him, his face lighting up before falling and setting into his classic I'm-Not-Hurting face. That alone was enough to make Cas regret ever hurting him. Dean hadn't worn that face since Bobby's funeral. Dean made his way over to their table, receiving irritated glances from Jo and sympathetic looks from Ms. Harvelle. He sat across from Cas, and the distance had never seemed so vast.

"You ordered yet?" Dean asked quietly, shifting in discomfort. Cas shook his head. He was still trying to find the anger he'd felt earlier that day when Dean had texted him, but it was proving difficult. Dean nodded in acknowledgement before waving Jo over to take their order.

"Two double cheeseburgers, one with everything on it, one without pickles, and two milkshakes, a strawberry and a chocolate," Dean ordered, their usual order falling off his tongue like second nature. He didn't even need to look to Cas to confirm it.

Jo nodded, eyeing them both with suspicion, as if she knew something was off between them, before she wandered off towards the kitchen. They sat in silence for a time, Cas not trusting himself to speak, and Dean seemingly lost in his own head.

"Castiel…" Cas glanced up when Dean used his full name. He only called him Castiel when he was scared, usually of losing Cas. It made Cas want to tell Dean to forget everything they'd fought about and to just move on, but he knew they couldn't do that or it would just happen again, and worse than before.

"I- I'm so sorry. I just… I don't know. There's no excuse, but I'm so sorry. I fucked up," Dean said quickly. "I know you're mad, and you have every right to be, but Castiel, I can't do this, I can't get better, without you."

"Get better?" Cas asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. What on Earth was Dean talking about? Was he sick?

"I'm gonna stop drinking, Cas. Pretty pathetic, alcoholic before I can even legally drink, but I'm stopping now," Dean said earnestly. He had a hand laying flat on the table as he leaned forward, eyes intensely boring into Cas's. Without thinking, Cas reached out and grabbed Dean's hand, holding it tight while Dean spoke.

"I need you to help me, Cas. I need you," Dean finished, lowering his eyes. Cas could tell Dean hated having to bare himself like this, and it made his heart hurt that he was willing to do this, to ignore his pride, to fix things with Cas. To fix _them_.

Cas lifted their joined hands, pressing his lips gently to the inside Dean's wrist. "This isn't going to be easy, Dean," Cas said against the tender skin. Dean gave a shaky exhale.

"I know. But I want to try," Dean answered. Cas nodded quickly.

"Okay. We're going to try," Cas said, already resolving in his mind that he was going to make this work, no matter what. Dean wanted to do better, so Cas was going to do better too.

Dean smiled, a sweet, sad smile. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, Jo popped up and placed their food in front of them.

"You two sorted everything out?" Jo demanded. "Good." She nodded briskly, glaring teasingly at both of them before retreating back to speak with Ms. Harvelle.

Cas took a fortifying sip of his milkshake before looking Dean in the eye. "I'm sorry too, you know. For not trusting you." Dean started to protest, but Cas cut him off. "No, you don't get to take all the blame, Dean. We both screwed up, we're both going to do better."

Dean must've recognized Cas's tone of voice as the one that wasn't going to budge, because he nodded and took a bite of his burger. Cas followed suit, and they fell back into the easy silence of a meal shared with the one they cared about.

"Dean," Cas asked a moment later. "What did you do with the money from the bike?"

Dean only blushed and then grinned mischievously. "You'll see."


	8. A Way to Forget

It'd started innocently enough. Dean had always hung out with older kids, and once his dad was out of the picture, off travelling, it just got easier. Bobby _trusted_ him, let him run around so long as he was back by ten on school nights. On weekends he could stay out until midnight. So, yeah, him and the older kids would knock back a few beers in the parking lot, one of them having bought the six packs with a fake ID.

By thirteen Dean had his own fake ID, and had perfected the art of looking twenty-one. It was impressive, he never actually looked any older, but something in how he carried himself made him seem old enough to be buying bottles of vodka on a Tuesday night.

Soon it wasn't buying for him and friends, it was buying for just him. He had it stashed all around his room, under his bed, in his closet. He kept telling himself he just liked the way it felt, the way his body would go sort of weightless and warm. But he knew that wasn't all of it. He liked how it would dissolve his responsibilities, all the things that were his fault. He liked that it made him forget.

Cas didn't like it. He kept trying to set things up with Dean at night, things to keep him from drinking. Dean knew what he was up to, though, and by their sophomore year he'd settled into a comfortable routine of keeping sober during the school week, spending his evenings studying or goofing off with Cas, and then getting absolutely trashed on weekends.

Even that made Cas frown, but frankly Dean figured he was owed his vices. It wasn't like he was driving or anything. If he'd had too much –and he always knew when he'd had too much– he'd call Cas, and Cas would wake Luci and they would drive to pick him up.

When he was eighteen, with an apartment in town and a liquor cabinet all his own, he'd asked Cas to move in with him. Cas had agreed enthusiastically, but Dean couldn't ignore the slightly disappointed look on his face when he'd seen the half dozen bottles of whiskey in the cabinet and the six-pack of beer in the fridge.

So he'd found a second vice, something that Cas, while not thrilled over, would at least find less self-destructive. He bought a motorcycle. What Cas didn't know was that when he'd go out for his evening rides, and be gone for a few hours, he only rode for maybe thirty minutes. He'd drive out to a bar, someplace skeevy enough that they wouldn't bother carding him, and drink until he was just drunk enough to forget, but still sober enough to drive.

But his control started to slip. It got harder and harder to tell when he was still good to drive, and when he needed to stop slamming back glasses of whiskey. He supposed it was only a matter of time before he got caught. He hadn't expected it to be so dramatic though.

Two fractured ribs and a concussion, along with a handful of minor contusions. Doctors said he was lucky, that the accident could've been so much worse than it was.

That didn't stop Cas from going white as a sheet when he saw Dean hooked up to three different machines and an IV. It also didn't keep Sammy from going half-crazy when he saw his brother all beat up.

And it didn't keep Dean from returning to his routine the next week.

* * *

After the fight, after Dean had nearly lost Cas, Dean had resolved to do better. He and Cas took all the whiskey and beer in the house, and unceremoniously dropped it off on Luci's front porch. His motorcycle had been sold, and the bars he'd once frequented fell by the wayside.

But still he needed to forget.

Too many deaths haunted him; too many people relied on him. He needed a way to escape, to free himself from all the things he'd seen and done. The mistakes he'd made, the people he'd hurt. They followed him around, casting shadows on everything he did, the plans he and Cas made. He couldn't shake them, no matter how hard he tried, and without the alcohol to offer relief, he was at a loss on what to do.

He managed, of course, putting on his brave face and pushing forward. But Cas always called him on it, or did something to try and cheer him up.

On a particularly bad day, about two months after he'd stopped drinking, he'd come home to a warm apartment that smelled delicious, and a boyfriend covered head-to-toe in flour and sugar. Dean came up behind him in the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Cas's waist.

"Cas, what're you doing?" Dean laughed, brushing some of the flour from the man's shoulder.

"Baking," Cas replied swatting his hands away with a chuckle.

"I didn't know you baked," Dean said, surprised. Cas turned in his arms so they were face to face. He shrugged.

"I don't. Amelia gave me the recipe," Cas said with a smile. "I figured it'd be a nice surprise for when you got home."

Dean laughed, of course Sammy's girlfriend was teaching his boyfriend how to bake. It made as much sense as anything else in his life. "Okay, so what'd you make?" he asked. Cas flushed, going a light pink from the tips of his ears down to his neck.

"Apple pie," Cas answered quietly.

That stopped Dean short. His mom used to bake pies for him and Cas and Sam, and while Sam and Cas always liked cherry best, Dean always wanted apple. He'd always let Sam and Cas have their way, and once in a while Cas would ask Mary, quiet and polite as ever, if she wouldn't mind making an apple pie this time. Mary always would, with a smile, and she'd usually give them some ice cream to go with.

He pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to Cas's forehead, his throat quivering a little. "Thank you," he whispered, trying to hide how thick his voice had suddenly become. Cas understood, holding him lightly as Dean swallowed back tears.

That evening was a turning point. Later, as they ate the pie, Dean talked about his mom. Though Cas had been there for most of it, there were little things he'd never known.

"She used to tell me, every night before bed, that angels were watching over me," Dean mentioned. Cas raised an eyebrow.

"She called me angel," Cas pointed out. Dean smiled.

"Yeah. She did."

* * *

Grief is a funny thing. It shows up in different ways, it changes the longer you hold it. If it has the chance, it will consume you, burn you until there's nothing left. Grief destroys you, wipes you to the ground and then kicks you while you're down there.

But grief can also help you. Rain a cool healing down on you when you need it most. Stitch you back together and leave with a tiny scar, something to show off a little bit later on when you're with friends. Remind you that you're alive, that you're hurting because you survived.

Grief hurts. But it makes you different if you come out of it. You won't come out of it unscathed, but you will come out of it different. Whether that difference is positive or negative, it's up to you.

So grief is strange. It's drinking until you can't see straight, and crashing a motorcycle. It's also baking a pie because you don't know what else to do. It's screaming and shouting and then it's holding and crying. It's early mornings when you can't get out of bed and late nights where you can't get into it. It's breaking down when a certain song comes on the radio, and it's only listening to certain stations to avoid that song. It's _I wish I'd never met you_ and _please dear God never leave me_. It's _I know you don't mean that_ and _I swear I'm not going anywhere_.

Grief can only happen because love was there first.


	9. What's Family For?

"Sammy, you might be my brother, but there is no way in hell that I am babysitting for you," Dean said blatantly. Amelia rolled her eyes, and gave Cas a pleading look.

Cas put an arm around Dean's shoulders. "We'd be happy to watch Henry for you," Cas said, giving Dean a small smile. Dean made an exasperated noise, but finally agreed.

So that Friday night, Cas went around toddler-proofing their apartment while Dean ordered a pizza for dinner. Once every pointy edge was cushioned and all the outlets had covers on them, Cas came into the kitchen and hopped up on the counter.

Before Dean could make use of his boyfriend's additional height, the doorbell rang.

"Shit," Dean groaned, pulling back and heading for the door.

"Watch the language around the child," Cas warned. Dean shot him a smirk over his shoulder and opened the door, revealing Sam and Amelia, plus one rather annoyed looking toddler.

"Heya, Henry," Dean greeted, immediately crouching down to make eye contact with the kid. He promptly hid behind Amelia's legs.

"Sorry, he's been doing that with everyone lately," Amelia apologized, bending a bit to coax the little boy into the apartment. Henry obeyed, but still kept one little fist balled in her jeans.

Cas came over, adopting the same stance Dean had, before speaking lowly to Henry. "Do you like pizza, Henry?" he asked, his voice low and gentle. The child's eyes went wide, and he nodded a little, his grip on Amelia's pants loosening a bit. "We got some pizza for dinner, do you want to come see?" Cas held his hand out for Henry to take.

Henry nodded again, and let go of Amelia's jeans completely so that he could grab onto Castiel's hand. While Dean and Sam blinked in surprise, Cas led Henry over into the kitchen.

"Would you like to sit on the counter?" Cas asked. When Henry nodded again, Cas kept talking. "Okay. I'm going to pick you up, is that all right?" Henry gave a toothy smile and lifted his arms up in acceptance. Cas quickly scooped the boy up and set him on the counter. Henry squealed and giggled, kicking his legs in excitement.

"I think you guys are good to go," Dean muttered, unwilling to speak too loud in case Henry heard and got spooked again. Amelia grinned and tugged a surprised Sam out the door and away.

Dean closed the door and stepped over to the kitchen. Henry fell silent again, but his brown eyes now seemed more curious than afraid. Dean only had to stoop a little bit to bring their eyes to the same level, and now Henry seemed a lot more interested than he had earlier.

Cas plopped some pizza down on a paper plate and put the plate down next to the pair before grabbing a slice for himself.

Henry laughed gleefully when Dean took one bite of the pizza and all the toppings came off with the cheese, falling and covering Dean's chin and shirt with pizza sauce and pepperoni.

"Ha ha, very funny, kid," Dean said sarcastically, but with a gentle smile, while he cleaned himself up. Cas tossed him a clean T-shirt from the pile of laundry waiting to be folded on the couch.

After dinner, they tried to give Henry a bath, but that mainly resulted in Dean getting soaking wet while Henry and Cas remained mysteriously dry. Finally he gave up, toweled himself off while Cas and Henry laughed at him. Around eight, when Dean was dry, they settled down onto the couch and popped in a movie.

To be honest, Dean didn't pay any attention to whatever animated musical was playing. Instead, he watched how Cas played with Henry, how he held the kid gently to his side when Henry started to yawn, and how he gently ruffled the small child's hair once Henry was asleep.

Dean scooted closer, draping his arm around Cas's shoulders. Cas leaned back into his chest and let Dean take his weight. Dean leaned down, pressed a soft kiss to Cas's hair.

"This is… nice. The kid thing, I mean," Dean said softly, careful not to wake Henry. Cas smiled contentedly, sensing the question behind Dean's statement.

"We'll talk about it in the morning," Cas said, nuzzling closer to Dean. They fell asleep only moments later.


	10. Seven Years

They'd talked about it of course, doing the family thing. Buying a house, adopting a kid or two, the whole nine domestic yards. But it had always been in the abstract, more _if I have kids_ than _when we have kids_. Now Dean was about to find out just how ready they were for that. There wasn't a question in his mind that he wanted to be with Cas forever, and after seeing him with Henry, he had known the only way to improve on the life they already had was to bring a kid into it.

Cas was volunteering today, working at a soup kitchen. It gave Dean the perfect opportunity to put his plans into motion. He'd spent half the day on the phone with Amelia, having her talk him through the basics of cooking. From the way the kitchen smelled, her directions were pretty solid. There was a bottle of sparkling cider chilling and what Amelia swore were the best cheeseburgers on the planet were being kept warm under the broiler.

And still half an hour to go until Cas got home.

Dean slid a finger into his pocket, tracing the tiny circlet with an absent finger. His leg bounced nervously. He hadn't said a word to anyone –not even Sammy, though Amelia had sounded very knowing when he'd called for cooking advice– he didn't want to deal with the embarrassment if Cas were to say no.

Not that he was going to. No, Dean didn't doubt that Cas loved him. It was just… nerve-wracking. Putting himself out there like this, where Cas could hurt him just as easily he could make him happy. It felt vulnerable. More vulnerable than Dean had ever let himself be. He was terrified.

Seven years they'd been together, but the moment that front door opened, Dean might as well have been sixteen again. His pulse hammered, drowning out the rest of the world as his eyes zeroed in on Castiel.

"Hello, Dean. I'm going to shower before dinner," Cas said, leaning up and giving Dean a gentle kiss on the cheek. Dean nodded, still thrumming with nerves while Cas went back towards the bathroom. Once Dean heard the water start running, he hopped up and started pulling out dinner.

The burgers were arranged on actual plates, not the paper stuff Dean usually managed to talk Cas into using –"Easier clean up, Cas, it's perfect!"– and candles (shut up they looked classy) were placed in the center of the table and lit. Once he was sure he had enough time, he dashed back to their bedroom and changed from his jeans and t-shirt to slacks and a decent button-down.

Changed into nice clothes with everything set, he sat back down at the dining room table, more jittery than he'd been since he walked into prom with Cas on his arm. He pulled the tiny circlet from his pocket and set it underneath the edge of his plate. A moment later, Cas came out, in his usual dress shirt and pants. Dean leapt up, grinning nervously.

Cas raised an eyebrow when Dean gestured for him to sit, but obeyed silently, just taking things in at first.

"Dean… you're up to something," Cas said slowly, staring at the burgers and candles as if he'd never seen them before. Okay, the candles were new, but they'd had burgers for dinner before, it wasn't _that_ weird.

"Am not. Shut up and eat your burger, it'll get cold," Dean ordered, taking a bite out of his own. And damn, Amelia hadn't been lying, these burgers were _great_. After a few minutes of eating in silence, Dean relaxed enough to make conversation. "How was your day?" he asked. Cas smiled, clearly glad that Dean was starting to act normally.

"It was good. I saw Lisa there," he said seriously, but with a twinkle in his eye. Lisa had been one of Dean's disastrous attempts at a girlfriend during their freshman and sophomore years. He'd been with Lisa the longest of any of his attempts, a whopping three months. Something Cas never failed to tease him about.

Dean didn't rise to the bait just yet. "I didn't know she volunteered there," he commented. Cas's mouth twitched a bit.

"She seemed very excited when she first saw me, but once she realized I was alone, she seemed rather put out," Cas elaborated. Dean smirked a bit at him, knowing he was teasing and most likely making this up.

"Hmm, maybe I should start volunteering if that's the sort of people you meet," Dean replied. Cas faked a scowl, but couldn't manage it for long. A small grin broke free and Dean started laughing the moment it appeared, unable to hold his joy back any longer.

"In all seriousness, though, Dean. What is this," Cas gestured about the table, "all about? I know I didn't forget an anniversary or birthday, so what's going on?"

Okay, nerves were definitely back. Dean took a shaky breath, palming the ring from under his plate surreptitiously before rising to stand by Cas's chair. He took another deep breath, just to calm himself, before he started talking.

"Cas, I've known you since the first grade, and I knew the moment you sat next to me you were something important-"

"I didn't sit next to you, Ms. Harvelle _assigned_ me that seat," Cas interrupted for clarity's sake.

"My story, my rules, so zip it," Dean said easily, some of his nerves disappearing with the simple banter. "I was the first one in town you talked to, and I've never felt more special than I did right then. You were there with me for everything, when my parents died, when I was worried about Sammy, you were always there. I was the one who taught you to ride a bike, but you're the one who taught me everything else important. So," here he paused and sank onto one knee, determined to do this right for Cas, "Castiel Novak, will you marry me?" He held out his palm to Cas, the ring sitting in the center, waiting for Cas's reply.

Cas sucked in a quick breath, his blue eyes wide and shining, before he nodded mutely. "Yes," he croaked out, and Dean's face broke into a grin. He took the ring and slid it carefully onto Cas's finger. Dean leaned in and kissed Cas, quickly and sweetly, before pulling back again to see his fiancé's face.

"You don't even know how long I've wanted to see that," Dean said, glancing down at the ring that was shining gently on Cas's fourth finger.

"How long have you had it?" Cas asked, looking back and forth from the ring to Dean as if aligning the two in his mind.

"About three years now," Dean said, smiling sheepishly. He'd wanted to wait until he was completely sober, and then it had been about waiting for them both to be ready for the next step.

Cas's face was one of hushed awe. "That's what you did with the motorcycle money," he said slowly, realization dawning in his eyes. Dean gave a nod.

"Well, on that, and its mate," Dean said, pulling the second ring from his pocket. "Would you?" he asked, offering it to Cas, who nodded and took it reverently before sliding it onto Dean's left hand. When the ring was on, Dean grabbed Cas's hand before it could slip away and tangled their fingers, drawing him close for another kiss.

This time, instead of sweet and quick, it was long and warm, almost languid, and intense as heaven and hell combined. And maybe it was a chick thing to think, but Dean could swear the kiss was the perfect indicator of their life together.


	11. A Moment in Time

"Cas, why is she crying?" Dean asked, bouncing the baby in his arms with a concerned look on his face. Cas's mouth turned up a bit at the corners as he took the dark-haired infant from his husband's arms.

The baby immediately stopped crying, unscrunching her face to blink up at Cas with big green eyes. "Dammit. She likes you better," Dean griped, slipping an arm around Cas's waist and looking down at their daughter.

"No, she just doesn't like the flannel on her skin," Cas explained, as the baby nuzzled closer against his tie. Dean pouted for a moment, then left his husband and daughter to go back to their bedroom.

A few minutes later, he came back to the living room, to find Cas giving Mary her bottle. Cas's eyes flicked up, and a smile spread more fully across his face. "You changed," he commented, tilting the bottle so Mary could get the last of her formula.

Dean held out his arms for the baby, and Cas happily passed her over. Mary blinked at the motion, but a few moments later she was curling into Dean's chest, making those tiny mewling noises she made when she was falling asleep. Dean started to hum under his breath, gently rocking her back and forth.

Cas chuckled, and then spoke when Dean glanced at him questioningly. "Smoke on the Water?" Cas laughed quietly, coming to put his arms around Dean's waist from behind and putting his chin on Dean's shoulder. "You're raising our daughter on Deep Purple?"

"Is that a problem?" Dean asked, but he switched the tune.

"Led Zeppelin is hardly an improvement, Dean," Cas joked, giving Dean a pleased kiss on the cheek. Dean scoffed, trying not to jostle Mary too much as he did so.

"Stairway to Heaven is _always_ an improvement," Dean replied without missing a beat. Mary made a noise in her sleep and they both froze, silently willing her to stay asleep.

She was so tiny, small for her age, but the doctor wasn't worried, he said it was perfectly normal and that she'd grow just fine. Still, Dean fretted over it, and kept trying to get her to drink more formula than she wanted to. Cas would just smile patiently, and remind him that not everyone exploded into moosedom like Sam had. Dean would agree, but still try and sneak extra formula into her bottle when Cas wasn't looking.

Dean had taken really well to being a dad, becoming even a little overprotective –or a lot overprotective, depending on whom you asked– of the tiny girl. He shuddered to think what he was going to be like when she started walking or– oh, God, _dating_. He actually shuddered.

"What was that about?" Cas asked. Dean grimaced, but only shook his head.

"Let's put her to bed," Dean suggested, before Cas would press him for details. He didn't want to dwell on the future, where this perfect moment would be just a memory. He wanted to just live in this moment forever, with his little family wrapped up in the joy of an easy naptime. Cas nodded, stepping away and down the hall towards the bedroom all three of them shared.

Dean followed suit, making his footsteps slow and even to keep Mary asleep. By the time he reached the bedroom, Cas had pulled a warm baby blanket –a gift from Amelia when they'd confirmed the adoption– from a dresser drawer and was settling it in the crib.

Cas turned and smiled, stepping to the side to let Dean settle their daughter into the crib, pausing the pull the blanket up around her chin so she wouldn't get cold. Dean hovered over the crib, and Cas stayed by his side, waiting for Dean to say what was on his mind.

"What- Cas, what if I'm not good at this?" Dean asked, leaning on the crib and looking down at Mary. "This whole parent thing. I mean, I had Bobby, but I mean… I don't know what I'm doing here, Cas."

His husband stared at Dean intently for a moment before wrapping him a hug. Cas buried his face in Dean's neck before answering. "You are going to be the best father." Dean realized he was clinging to Cas like a lifeline, like he was the only thing keeping him tied to the earth.

"How do you know?" Dean asked, hating how fragile he sounded.

"Because I know you, Dean Winchester. I saw you as a kid, how you always watched out for whoever needed it. You protected Sam and me, took care of us if we needed something. And I saw you after your parents passed, how you took being Sam's brother so seriously. And I see how you look at Mary, like you'd give everything to keep her safe." Cas whispered the words fiercely. He was always sincere, except in the rare moments he teased Dean, but this went beyond that. This was the core of his beliefs, something Cas held close to his heart.

Dean swallowed thickly. "Thank you."


End file.
